Forever

[Marcello Matteo]

Ahto City, Manaan

The calm ocean breeze lightly ruffled Marcello's long blonde hair as he dismounted from the swoop he'd just finished piloting through the championship race circuit of a local tournament. The Jedi Master had only been on Manaan for a handful of days. Upon arrival, he'd more or less paid an up and coming swoop dealership to sponsor him in the Aquatic Cup. Naturally, the owners were wondering how some random, large spacer even managed to have enough money, but they didn't ask too many questions. Marcello had even sweetened the deal by telling them they could keep the winnings. His only condition? He be provided the full resources to provide whatever modifications he felt necessary. They'd been extensive, and the swoop was going right back to the dealer...probably for them to attempt to replicate his work and sell it.

As he approached winner's circle, he saw the second and third place finishes already standing there, staring at him. Marcello managed a half-smile in their direction as he completely bypassed winner's circle. The blonde Jedi had raced under an alias, Daniel Soto, but he knew plenty of media had caught his face by now. Much like he knew it was being projected on the large monitors around the track seating area. Whatever. He'd come here not for the challenge or the danger. By now, Marcello knew exactly what he was capable of. A swoop race would neither challenge him nor threaten his life.

Arrogance? Absolutely. The last several months had been much the same, Marcello seeking one thrill after another. From scaling active volcanoes to trying to wipe out the Krayt a Dragons on Tatooine he'd only come to one conclusion. Marcello was running from that which he didnlt understand and refused to blindly support any longer, from his feelings towards those closest to him in life, and that wiping out the Krayt species was freaking impossible.

Exiting the arena, Marcelo casually stepped into the street and crossed - seemingly ignoring traffic speeding in his direction. In truth, the Jedi Master was hyper-aware of his surroundings. Adjusting his brown leather jacket, he ran a hand through his long hair and merely smiled.

Life.

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

[member="Marcello Matteo"]

Slightly damp blonde tresses whipped against her cheeks and forehead as the final speeder curled around the corner she and others were spectating. It was unusual, for her to be a spectator and not a participant — but things with Ahto were tricky. This place held a special place for her. After it had been destroyed, it had been an exposed wound of The Republic. On her own initiative, she had rallied enough volunteers to erect it once more.
And here she was, with the citizens of the city without anyone pointing hateful fingers toward her. In fact, they seemed pleased to be Republic citizens once again.

The blonde Jedi lifted her fingers to run through her hair and smooth it out after the track ceased to have racers on it; and her quaff was no longer in danger of hazardous tunnels of wind. She had only touched down on Ahto in time to catch the tail end of the championship, and missed the preceding rounds. Not that it mattered, whoever won didn’t interest her — she was just pleased to see the city thriving in such vibrancy that it was used to.

I take that back. The victor did interest her. The name didn’t, but with a casual glance to the portrait shots of the hierarchy, she did a double-take. Uh, what? Her light eyes followed the movements of the figure on the screen and she moved with the crowd as they clambered about the victor’s courtyard. Apparently it had been a good couple of days. How strange, that by coincidence, they were in the same place at the same time. She hadn’t ever pursued any means of conversation after Mandalore. Nor had he. She had been proud of her restraint, and hadn’t wanted to spoil it. Kiskla was not someone to put herself in a position of vulnerability.

There was a frantic click of heels as a female reporter chased after the winner who was leaving the arena, she stopped just ouside the doors with a pant on her breath. “Hey! Hey Mr. Soto! You have to pose with your winner’s wreath! Hey!”

Instead of assisting the pursuit, Kiskla rested her hand on a nearby bannister while the flow of the crowds pulsated around the winner's circle -- some choosing to pursue the victor to ask for advice and an interview.

 

[Marcello Matteo]

Marcello stopped in the middle of the street and raised a casual hand to carefully halt traffic that was trying to swerve to avoid him. Cognizant of the speeders behind those he was...slowing, Marcello had only intended to spare the time to turn his head and regard the reporter with a disdainful look.

However, the Naboo native's icy blue eyes focused on yet another sight entirely. For a moment, he thought he was merely seeing her where she was not. It wasn't...no yeah it was the first time. A double-take revealed the would-be mirage for what it was. Unconvinced, Marcello stretched out with the Force and metaphysically groped for Kiskla's presence. Reality registered in the slight quiver of the corners of his lips as a smile threatened to spring forth, but he kept the emotion in check.

Releasing his hold of traffic, Marcello allowed all speeders to resume their original pace. A slight moment before he was about to be a hood ornament, the Jedi Master jumped into the air and then manipulated the Force to make t appear as if he'd abruptly dashed in the direction of the arena.

Landing a handful of feet from the stunned reporter, Marcello kept his gaze fixed on Kiskla as he replied. "I'm not interested in credits, a wreath, a picture, or media attention. What I want is much harder to obtain." Turning to face the reporter with a roguish grin, he concluded his statement. "Trust me. Now if you'll excuse me..."

Marcello did not utter another word, leaping up to he balcony that Kiskla stood upon. When he's landed, he folded his arms across his chest. "Kiskla." He resisted the urge to call her 'Princess' - recalling it as something she was attempting to keep under wraps. "It's been too long."

It might have appeared that Marcello had no regard for the scene he just caused...or perhaps his own life. One was partially accurate, the other comepletely inaccurate.

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

"B..but..." The woman stammered, her arms wilting under the weight of the wreath as it touched the ground. There was a lot of jumping going on, and she could do nothing but watch hopelessly. Damned Jedi with their super height-reaching abilities. "Okay, you heard him. Let's go talk to the ones who...who are in it for what the media wants to see. Shall we?" With a poised flip of her hair, she and her heels clicked off toward the somewhat dumbfounded podium.

Kiskla flinched only slightly when he neared, although her hand never left the railing. Her liips twisted into something that some could call amused when [member="Marcello Matteo"] spoke of something being too long. They were both at fault for that. The amount of pride between the two blondes was..insurmountable.

"Has it?" She replied, looking beyond his frame to the crowds below. They seemed to be recovering from the stunt well enough that they were focusing on the two victors that were left. They were getting over the scene that Marcello caused in a similar fashion that she had reacted to his public display on Mandalore too. "What brought you to Ahto City? Your flyboy heritage?"

 

[Marcello Matteo]

Marcello's own expression reminded definitively deadpan as he spoke with Kiskla. Though it wasn't exactly without effort, despite the circumstances of their last parting. The Jedi held no hard feelings toward the beauty in front of him. He'd bared his heart and the total sum of his emotions, and she'd...said thank you. Perhaps more, but he was positive the total value of whatever words she did utter equaled rightly the same amount of nothing.

Despite that realty, he at least did her the courtesy of looking at her when he addressed her. "Cute." Either she wanted him to think she had somehow lost the ability to count, or she wanted him to understand she'd thought in their last meeting...not at all. Oh the wound. Make the pain stop. Alert the media, Kiskla was cold, detached. It was neither a surprise nor a problem. Maybe it was just irritating? Is this what it was like for others to interact with Marcello? Sucks to be other people. "A starship brought me. My desire not to be bored prompted me to enter the race. My flyboy heritage helped me to win."

Managing a broad, completely false smile, Marcello continued. "Yourself?"

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Kiskla hmphed humourously at [member="Marcello Matteo"]'s sarcastic explanation. Starship -- of course. And the being bored thing was something she had said just over a year ago, when requested to join the Jedi once more. She was only beginning to get bored, but then again, with the title of Master of the Order -- one wouldn't be bored for long.

Might as well be honest as to why she was here. "I wanted to see how Ahto City was doing." For once, that façade he accused her of diminished and she looked out over the crowds. They seemed happy, shrugging off the devastation that had plagued them months ago. This track hadn't existed then. "They've been through a lot recently." A touch to her lips in contemplation before she looked up at him with a tilt of her head.

"How was the track? Any flaws? And the morale of the people all the while? I'm sure this was a distracting source of entertainment. Did you put on a show?"

 

[Marcello Matteo]

Marcello blinked in surprise only momentarily. Despite his thoughts about her, he'd seen her be more of a...person where it concerned people she was responsible for in the past. However, he appreciated the difference, and for a moment he wanted to be mad at himself. In spite of it all, his affection for Kiskla remained. The Jedi Master had simply spent months learning how best to ignore it. Briefly, Marcello gazed out at the population.

After shifting his gaze back to Kiskla, Marcello exhaled heavily, purging himself of several thoughts and emotions. "The vast majority of the galaxy has suffered and continues to suffer..." Marcello's voice trailed as his mind drifted to the a tons of his recent past that he shoved down deep into his soul until needed to summon the memories for strength and resolve. "Track. Yeah the track is good. Not as challenging as some of the legacy tracks, but I think it's still a great deal of fun." Manaan was a water world, there was only so much you could do to make for an enticing swoop course. "The crowd...well you know people always love sports. Especially those that involve a lot of fast moving speeders very close to together. It's a good distraction from the worries of life...for spectators and participants. Smart idea, K-Gray."

Stepping away from Kiskla briefly, he moved to a better vantage point to view the closing ceremonies. "I can't say my actions were motivated by a desire to impress though..." Marcello didn't particularly feel the need to say he'd taken a lot of risk on purpose, trying to skate on the edge of death. "They seem overall pleased with the series."

Turning back it Kiskla, Marcello looked at her seriously. "How are you doing though, Kiskla? Even in my...self-imposed exile I heard word of recent movements within the Order."

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

"The Order is moving." Kiskla replied affirmatively, tucking a strand of wavy hair behind her ears. She was keeping her promotion under wraps, as she intended to pass the title off to another she deemed more qualified; one that the masses knew as a former Grandmaster. Her plans were constantly in motion, never sitting still. Akin to herself. "Although it's direction, I can't say. I'm sure if you tried to get into Coruscant it would be difficult for you. The Mandalorians are..encroaching.

Our relationship with them was severed when we attempted to welcome Etti IV to The Republic. Apparently there was an agreement behind that, that stated it was part of Mandalorian territory after the Empire's dissolve. Things have been rocky ever since, and The Republic is doing their best to tame the beast, but in reality, we're waiting and sitting to be attacked.

Does that sound like a reason to come out of self-imposed exile?"

Indeed, Kiskla was a person of the people these days. Even in this moment, with what could have been about her, she turned to [member="Marcello Matteo"] to see if he would respond and work with The Order for the protection of citizens similar to the ones that surrounded them now.

 

[Marcello Matteo]

Marcello's response was swift. "No, it does not. The Republic, the Jedi will always be on the defensive. It is the nature of being a guardian versus a conqueror." Shaking his head, Marcello surrpressed the desire to laugh. "As for the Mandalorians, it sounds like a simple mistake they would understand...unless someone went about apologizing...incorrectly." The blonde Jedi eye ally didn't know as he hadn't been involved.

Shrugging slightly, Marcello looked deeply into Kiskla's eyes. "I can stand for the innocent and do what is needed to protect them without throwing in my lot with the barely veiled idiocy that was rampant in the Order last I checked. Is that your standard pitch? Come help us because people are going to probably try and kill us soon? Lacks a bit of substance and true purpose, don't you think?"

Marcelo wasn't passing judgment. He was long passed that now. He'd given the Order his all and forgiven a great deal but eventually enough was enough. "Your Order holds nothing of interest for me." A thoughtful pause occurred almost involuntarily. "Nothing," he affirmed.

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

"Ulterior motives." Came the correction to the statement of incorrect apologies. It was a delayed response by her because she was looking at those below who were wrapped up in their self-made moment of indulgence. Kiskla was no empath, although she could be mentally persuasive. Nevertheless, she didn't need to be emotionally tuned to see that the citizens of the city were enjoying this suspension in time immensely, and would likely continue into the night. It was refreshing.

"It's dismaying." Kiskla said slowly, somewhat with thought as she crossed her arms and returned [member="Marcello Matteo"]'s burrowing gaze. Hers was not to be intrusive, however. She respected his thoughtful, careful mind. At times she could envy it. Kiskla was driven by whispers, rumours and curiosities. She investigated what she did not know, and rooted out where the truths lay. As such, it made her the ears to many who were deaf. This curious nature made her the opposite of the man near her--- she was impulsive and reckless. For the time being, she was a person for the people; but galaxies knew that was a ticking time bomb. "The Order is supposed to be a pinnacle. I believe when it was first scrounged together ten years ago after the Graug Plague that it was." Both arms unfolded now and she braced her palms against the bannister while looking below, avoiding eye contact. "Then, it was severed and pulled every which way. By politics, as you so politely said on Mandalore." No, her memory bank was not an empty vault. "The Leventine Sanctum, the Silver Jedi, blah blah." Her wrist rolled as she spoke, an impassive gesture.

"And those rogues who do their own crusades." She rotated to lean her elbows against the bannister as some confetti was released below "What have you accomplished in your months away?" It wasn't a critical statement, nor a comparison; just idle wonderings what the Jedi of the galaxy were getting up to. That and, betrayingly enough--she might have missed him.

 

[Marcello Matteo]

Marcello was perfectly still and silent as he listened to Kiskla. He'd known the woman for some time now, and he could note the punctuated difference in her personality from when they first met to right now. It was...interesting. Regardless, he respected the Jedi Master for who she was then and now. At the very least, she had the ability to continue having faith even in entities that were seemingly faithless themselves.

"It is the destiny of every organization to suffer difficulties. I respect your steadfast devotion." Pausing, Marcello shifted his gaze back to the celebrations below. "Far more than you likely know." There wasn't much of anything more to be said on the matter of the differences in the Jedi Order across the ages.

For a moment, he allowed himself to feel the exhaustion that had been chasing him for weeks now. Marcello had remained healthy, fit, and of course clean, but he'd certainly been moving at an exhaustive pace. "A lot. There are many people in this galaxy that suffer. I merely do what little I can." Pirates. He had mostly been dealing with pirates preying on various colonies and space stations, but there was a larger objective to his actions.

Since the collapse of the Empire, the Sith had splintered. In order to survive and resupply...they had to use someone. Individuals of ill-repute were very appealing to those trying to maintain a low signature.

If Kiskla had been asking for any reason even remotely personal, Marcello gave no indication that he noticed or was even aware. "I go where the Force beckons. It's a much more objective superior." Slowly, Marcello turned his attention from the crowd to Kiskla once more. "Less entertaining though." Shaking his head, Marcello managed a soft laugh. "Sorry Kiskla, but I don't see myself coming back to the Order." Another pause. "Not even for you."

Marcello didn't see himself joining any of the splinter groups either. Officially, he was on leave from the Republic Military. He might consider an early return.

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

"That's very vague." She commented, quirking her brow pointedly.

She then held up a hand when he said he wasn't going to return; not even for her womanly wiles. "Don't worry," she pushed off the railing and lingered for a moment "I'm no longer in the business of suggesting people come back to something they don't believe in. Jedi don't need a title, nor a uniform." This was evidenced by [member="Marcello Matteo"], Darron, and even Tamara although she denied being a Jedi. Her past of slaughter was what distanced herself from the claims, but her morals were better than some that paraded around under false pretences. There was going to be a cleanse very, very soon.

"It looks so awkward there without you." She said, rather abruptly. "Three podiums and only two occupied?" Light eyes drifted over him briefly. It wasn't subtle, but her excuse could be evaluating him where the camera was supposed to put on ten pounds. They were in public again, and with a lot of cameras; and as it stood they were both high profile in Ahto. He a little more than her at present.

"What was your plan before skipping up here?" It was apparent she no longer wanted to talk about the Jedi and his distaste for the Order. She was exhausted of the subject; sometimes she brought it up to see if anyone had changed their mind. But they never did and she was finding it more and more difficult to breathe.

 

[Marcello Matteo]

Marcello could sense his companions lack of desire to continue vamping on the subject of his flattering view of the Jedi Order. There was little he could offer in the way of response to her comment about his recollection of recent events being vague, so he allowed it to pass without retort.

As the conversation shifted back to the celebration below, Marcello's eyes followed the subject of Kiskla's comment. His icy blue eyes returned to the woman just in time to catch the tail-end of her look, but his mind managed to remain on the conversation at hand. "It does but..." For a moment, Marcello hesitated to finish what was in his mind. After all, he'd done that dance before. Arguably the first time in his life with the exception of his late master. "I'm not big on the spotlight." The memory of Mandalore brought a brief smile to his lips before it faded. "You know...with limited, embarrassing exceptions."

Motioning to the masses, he continued. "I'm happy to do my part to distract from the terrors of their recent past, but I'm not the one they should look to. I'm not the embodiment of everything fair and just in this galaxy. There are other idols to behold." It was a belief that Marcello carried into most things he did - including his recent hiatus. He never stuck around for the thanks and praise. Waving a dismissive hand, he turned his gaze back to the other side of the street for a moment. "At any rate, I don't know what I was going to do. I've taken to merely walking and allowing an entity much more perceptive than myself to guide my path."

Turning his gaze back to Kiskla, he added, "For instance, it took me to a place that enabled a loud-mouthed reporter to turn my attention in your direction. Despite our last meeting, I am happy to see that you are healthy." Alright, so her health wasn't the immediate thought that ran through his mind upon seeing her, but she wasn't the only one that suffered pride.

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Kiskla chuckled slightly at his admittance that referred to Mandalore. It was apparent now, that it was not a speedbump on their little road. She couldn't keep skirting around it. For so long, the young woman had been an emotional specimen until recently when it had become obvious someone needed to step up to the plate, and be some sort of figurehead to the masses. She'd been a Jedi that none apart from The Sith had qualms with -- and now she was becoming bored with that. She was far too young to find her situation comfortable and she was getting antsy. Marcello had provided her something to explore on Mandalore and she'd recoiled -- which was stupid. He said it was The Force that brought this conversation together?

She was a terrible Jedi. She didn't believe in that hulabaloo.

"I don't believe that." Kiskla said flatly, pushing off the banister and touching his wrist slightly in indication to follow suit. "You weren't going to wander forever. You're just too dusty for the spotlight." It was true. Despite Ahto's spotless architecture, the emissions from his fellow pilots were still staining all of the participants -- Marcello included. Enough of the weighty talk -- despite it all, [member="Marcello Matteo"] was her friend. Her very attractive friend and she was growing weary of her duties.

Then she recognized his depite our last meeting comment and she looked away abruptly. He had kissed her, and she had kissed him back and walked away. That was that. The pursuit of anything further would have been futile considering the paths both of them lead, although the idea of him travelling about in his rogueish ways and her continuing to motivate Jedi was kind of..enticing in a strange way. The blonde girl was not one for commitments, and both of theirs suggested that any sort of relationship between them would only be committed when convenient. She could do that. "Was the Force suggesting we should pick up where we left off, when it supposedly singled me out from the reporters?" Still didn't believe The voice of the Force thing. Clearly.

The moment hung, and she gestured before walking slightly "Because this is far more public."

 

[Marcello Matteo]

Truth be told, the situation on Mandalore had been a bit of a speed bump. However, his pointed effort not to communicate with Kiskla, arguably one of his only friends within the Order, was convenient at the time. Eventually, he'd managed to forget entirely, allowing himself to become absorbed into his work. Being a one-man show had its...enticing qualities, but it also made things difficult without official resources to draw upon. No matter, Marcello had been riding solo most of his life before learning he was force sensitive. Regardless, the Jedi smiled at the sound of Kiskla's light laughter.

"Well I certainly did not arrange the encounter, nor did you. Unless of course...you've actually been stalking me across the stars. Somehow I doubt that I left that much of an impression." Following Kiskla's lead and stepping away from the railing, the Jedi Master lightly sniffed at his jacket. "You know...that does make sense. I can't very well look anything other than perfectly put together on the holonet!" The warm smile following the statement indicated how little that would ever matter to him.

As if on cue, the tone of their reunion seemed to shift abruptly as Kiskla reacted to his comment regarding Mandalore. The fact that she reacted wasn't what caught his attention. It was the manner in which she reacted. Refusing to pry, Marcello did not bother to probe her emotions. When she'd finished, Marcello reached out with his left hand and lightly grasped her right arm. "Whatever the reason for the reunion, I'm pleased it occurred."

Dropping his hand, Marcello smiled mischievously as he took a step closer to Kiskla. "And I don't think it was suggesting anything. I do think the sight of you was, clearly, enough to draw me in and practically close off the rest of the world around me." Winking playfully, Marcello ignored the latter part of Kiskla's statement. He'd come to much the same conclusion that she had before he'd ever even really said anything. Besides, Marcello Matteo did not live for love or deep, meaningful relationships. The fact that he'd even developed...feelings for Kiskla after so long was as much random as it was anything.

Stepping around Kiskla, he inclined his head, inviting her to follow. "The galaxy needn't know who I am or what I do, so long as they benefit positively from both." It was as much a statement of his lack of desire to repeat the past as anything. It did not, however, mean he did not desire the female Jedi. "I recall you had a young, recently elevated apprentice last we spoke. How has he fared in all that has happened and...is happening?"

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Well I certainly did not arrange the encounter, nor did you. Unless of course...you've actually been stalking me across the stars. Somehow I doubt that I left that much of an impression."

"No, but you could." She said, falling into step with the large spacer as they descended from the balcony. The mood had shifted to something more relaxed and perhaps even excited for whatever reason.

"He's fine. Mostly oblivious to the goings on and focusing on his own advancement." She rolled her eyes slightly at the query. Knight Windu was a good person, with a golden heart but a thirst that caused him to drool before he could sip. During a recently uprising on Onderon, Carn Dista had informed her that Antares had asked to learn Form VII -- claiming that he was ready. He was also pursuing Shatterpoint with her. A lesson that Kiskla was purposely delaying. It was apparent he was looking to follow in his ancestor's footsteps.
"Why, you're not looking to corrupt anyone into your rogue ways are you?"

 

[Marcello Matteo]

The mental pause that Kiskla's words had just affected was all too obvious as Marcello turned his head to look upon her with a mixture of surprise and excitement. "Well then..."

Surpressing emotions that Kiskla was nonchalantly pulling closer and closer to the surface, Marcello focused on the statements she made last. "I don't recruit." As they stepped away from the arena, Marcello guided Kiskla down the sidewalk towards the commercial district. A district that was not their destination, however. "Besides. I'm not looking to influence anyone in any kind of way."

Giving Kiskla a purposeful look, Marcello flashed a brief roguish grin. "Again. With limited exception." The sounds of the arena gradually faded into the distance as Marcello turned them right towards one of the sidewalks that encircled the perimeter of Ahto City. The sun was still high in the sky and the seas had calmed to a very tranquil state since the end of the race wch had agitated the swells to quite a degree less than an hour prior.

Reaching the railing, Marcello leaned against it and gazed out at the reflections touching the surface of the water. "This is also why I do it. I like to be reminded of the galaxy's serene beauties." Looking back to Kiskla, he gave her a very obvious once-over before gazing back out at the ocean with a smile. "I've discovered some are simply...impossible to duplicate."

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Kiskla had intended to confirm her reservations at one of the local hotels after her detour to check out the aquatic cup, but that was being detained as they left the crowds behind. Nonchalantly while they walked, Kiskla checked the chrono on her left wrist, just above her alchemical cuff. When she lifted her eyes, however, the view that [member="Marcello Matteo"] had intended for her to see became all she could focus on.

Kiskla had been born on Naboo, and had trained in its Lake Countries as a young Padawan under the tutelage of Master Marclonus. Now, she was the heir to desert planets. Water was the one constant that struck awe to her core. For a moment, her breath hitched at the serene picture before her. The gentle sloshing of waves against the City's foundation was all that was heard for a moment as Marcello's own deep voice, perhaps with a veiled compliment, drifted into the sea's breeze.

At least he had a reason.

Kiskla just had a nature.

If something was demanded, she answered. Right now, The Jedi needed a representative that didn't being a sour taste to people's tongues. She had stepped to that plate and forced herself to wear a new personality. Her purity stemmed from the want to not disappoint one who was likely dead now, swallowed by the galaxy's creatures that bumped in the night. "Oh." Was all she managed, still struck by the natural view that spanned out beyond the horizon. A whole planet like this.

It was so glassy and untouched that she wanted nothing more than to disrupt it. "It's too still for a sea."

Unlike Marcello, she was not an analytical person. So when she leaned over the railing, she was looking at the distance down. Nothing a couple of Jedi Masters couldn't handle.

"You're still awfully dusty." Kiskla observed while she shimmied her shoulders to drop her jacket and expose her bare arms in the tank beneath. There were no observers here. With a few long steps, she followed the curl of the sidewalk to where it angled slightly to a level below. She knew these rungs and structures; she'd helped rebuild them. That's why she scaled to the level below with such expertise; pausing only to look up at Marcello expectantly.

 

[Marcello Matteo]

Marcello could only smirk at Kiskla's comments and subsequent actions. She had spurred into action directly along the line of what he'd already been thinking. For a moment, he allowed himself to watch her departure. When the Jedi Master was no longer in view, Marcello quickly removed his leather jacket and the plain gray t-shirt that he wore beneath.

Given that he'd not been wearing any weapons, Marcello was not particularly concerned about anything that might potentially happen to his effects. Once he'd removed his boots and socks, the Rogue Jedi vaulted over the railing. Falling towards the sea with his arms stretched out to his sides, the Naboo native formed his body into a dive just befor coming into contact with the water far below the city. He utilized the Force to manipulate the speed of his descent to keep him from breaking anything...at the altitude he'd jumped from most would have serious injuries or possibly die. Managing velocity avoided that unfortunate instance.

The cool water immediately sent a refreshing feeling surging through Marcello's body as he dove several feet beneath the surface. Gradually, he made his way back to the surface and pulled streaks of wet, blonde hair from his icy blue eyes as he gazed expectantly at Kiskla with a smile. "I feel better already."

[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

When things were calm, people demanded chaos. When there was chaos, people demanded peace.
The water and her wanting to stir it up was only a pathetic analogy to the greater scheme of things.

Then, the first disturbance fell. She unzipped her own footwear and wrinkled her nose when [member="Marcello Matteo"] re-emerged. With a push from her palms, she went feet foot into the water with not as much grace as the other. She might have been acrobatic, but she was also callous at times.
The water swallowed her into a tunnel of tiny bubbles that jittered excitedly, capturing as much as as possible from the instant introduction of the elements. With a pump of her arms, she adjusted her downward direction and headed back toward the surface.

Pop.

Blonde tresses broke through the rippling surface, being met by small crests knocking against her cheeks and nose — still after effects from her plummet. She treaded for a moment, letting her hands drift to the surface. Small currents knocked against her palms, and brief memories of others that had been here splashed against her visual bank — let me tell you. Seeing the memories of a fish are not fascinating. The temporary loss subsided and she twisted to look out at the sun.

“You’re a very willing participant.” Kiskla marvelled finally, feeling the fabric of her shirt fluttering against her stomach while she tread to keep her head up. This was…quite deep. Impossibly deep.